From Moel Eilio to Snowdon: 2014 draws to a close

Although I made a few forays into the mountains of Wales and Scotland in previous years, 2014 has been the first that I’ve managed to get into the mountains regularly. Over the last 12 months I have really begun to build my hill fitness and improve my navigation skills. I have covered a distance of over 350km, with a total vertical ascent of 27482m, bagging 33 munros, 20 hewitts and a one active volcano. It has been a year of many firsts. My first solo munro (Stob Coire Raineach), my first solo winter day (Y Garn), my first day bagging 2 munros (Buachaille Etive Mor), my first route over 30k (Black Mountains), my first day with more than 2000m of ascent (Crianlarich 4), my first summit above 2000m (Japan) and my first solo scramble (Bristly Ridge). With all this under my belt I feel a real sense of pride and achievement, particularly given how far from the mountains I am based – for every hour above the tree line there must be at least another two either sat behind the wheel of a car or idling in airports.

Soon after returning from Japan at the end of October I was back in the Highlands to add Ben Lomond and Ben Vorlich to my munro tally. On paper neither of these munros should present too much of a challenge. However, the weekend that I climbed them in November the weather was atrocious. Atop Ben Vorlich I encountered the fiercest winds imaginable, reducing me to a crawl at one point. In such conditions it might have seemed foolish even to continue. Perhaps it was, although I feel I can rationalise my decision to press on because the summit area of Vorlich is reasonably broad and the visibility was pretty good. Had I been faced with a narrow ridge or other serious exposure I would certainly have turned around.

View towards Ben Nevis, Glencoe, November 2014

With those two cold and lonely days near Loch Lomond behind me it was a real pleasure later in the month to meet up with other keen walkers at the Walkhighlands autumn meet in Tyndrum. The day on Bidean Nam Bean was spectacular. Great views across the AE ridge and northwards first snows settling on Ben Nevis, CMD and Aonach Mor whetting my appetite for the winter ahead. Reaching the summit of Snowdon in December meant that I had managed to get out to Wales or Scotland at least once a month in 2014. It was a long, fulfilling day and a fitting end to a year of mountains.

I made a very early start, reaching the car park in Llanberis under moon and stars and watching the sun rise as I climbed the northern slopes of Moel Eilio. Alone and in the still of dawn every single sound registers so clearly, from the crunch of semi frozen earth beneath my boots to heaps of slate crashing down a nearby mountainside and the thud of a Sea King helicopter flying overhead. My planned route was just over 22km, traversing from Moel Eilio over to Foel Gron and Moel Cynghorion before heading up to Snowdon itself via the Ranger path and then descending the Llanberis path. In order to avoid any descent in darkness, an early start was imperative. Still, a survival bag, extra food, spare gloves, warm layer and head torch were all stowed in my bag – just in case.

Dawn breaks over Snowdon’s north west ridge, December 2014

Before long I was enjoying hot coffee and a snack at the top of Moel Eilio. Navigation was straightforward in such good visibility and at one point around 10am I could make out the shelter on Snowdon’s frosty summit. Until reaching the Ranger Path I had hardly seen another soul all day. A group of three other walkers had followed me round from Moel Eilio and we bumped into one another near Moel Cynghorion and climbed together for the first section of the Ranger Path. These walkers were properly suited and booted for the season and I expect they were as stunned as I was to notice how many people were making their way towards the snow line clearly unprepared for the winter conditions that lay ahead. While my ice axe stayed strapped to my pack the whole day I put my crampons on at around the 800m mark and as I climbed above the snow line the cloud dropped and visibility fell to around 20m.

I had heard all the stories about people climbing Snowndon in jeans and flip flops but had assumed that it was exclusively a summer phenomenon. At the summit itself, I was amazed to see a few people arriving in jeans and soaking wet trainers. I even saw one chap huffing and puffing his way to the top in jeans and a T-shirt. His top was a couple of sizes too small for him and the guy was obviously a gym addict, with muscles bulging for all to see. I wasn’t sure what would motivate this sort of bravado (or is it simply stupidity?) When you are surrounded by snow and the air temperature is perhaps minus six degrees celcius, what on earth possesses someone to strip down to a cotton T-shirt?

Snowdon summit, December 2014

After enjoying my sandwiches at the top I turned and headed for home. I narrowly avoided a navigation error on the descent. At first retracing my steps on the Ranger Path I recalled that I should keep the railway to my left to descend the Llanberis path until Clogwyn station. Crossing back over the tracks I picked up the correct path. Lower down, near the snow line, I got a great view of the fearsome crags of Clogwyn. With just an hour or so of daylight left I was again astonished to see so many people still making their way up. There was no way they would make it to the top and back down before dark. Some of them weren’t even carrying packs – so no torches or extra warm clothes, let alone axes or crampons. On the one hand it was great to see people challenging themselves and enjoying the mountains – perhaps for the first time in their life – but on the other hand it was disheartening to see such flagrant disregard for safety and such lack of respect for the mountain (I picked up several pieces of litter during my descent). My thoughts turned to the brave men and women of the Snowdonia mountain rescue teams who put their own lives on the line to come to the aid of people who get into trouble in the mountains. It must infuriate them to see people so ill prepared for winter conditions.

In any event, I arrived safely back at my car with daylight to spare. 2014 has been a terrific year and I look forward to many more mountains in 2015. Next weekend I will be back in Snowdonia. Hopefully I’ll get some blue skies and crisp white snow. However, as I sit and write this in London on 28th December the weather in almost every mountain area of Britain has been spectacular – which just about guarantees it will be dreadful next weekend! Well, you never know….

See more of my 2014 photos here: https://www.flickr.com/photos/sbk21/sets/72157649859618061/

And my walk highlands reports (including gps tracks) here: http://www.walkhighlands.co.uk/blogs/Riverman

Four more round Ben More

September saw me return to Scotland to bag a few more munros before heading off on holiday to Japan. I’d tackled the western three Crianlarich munros earlier in the year on an epic, 10 hour day that ended in darkness and driving rain. This time, my aim was to spend a Friday warming up in Glencoe by climbing Creise and Meall a’Bhuiridh and then on Saturday cover the eastern four Crianlarich munros in one go, to take me to the milestone of 30 munros.

Meall a’Bhuiridh

On Friday, Creise and Meall a’Bhuiridh were dispatched without much difficulty (though insects were certainly a distraction and I had my head net on for much of the day). I climbed in warm sunshine and had the whole route to myself. Meall a’Bhuiridh is sadly scarred by the ski lifts but once the ridge is crossed over to Creise some fine views are a reward. Glencoe never fails to impress and the cloud inversion around Buachaille Etive Mor was stunning.

Glencoe, cloud inversion

On Saturday morning I arrived early at Inverlochlarig and began the long, steep slog up Stob Binnein. At the start of the path were placed two fairly recent memorial stones, a sad and sobering reminder of the dangers of climbing Scottish mountains. These are big hills, rising to over 3,500 ft. They can be dangerous at any time of year but particularly in winter. The north facing corrie of Ben More is a well known avalanche black spot.

On the way up to the first top of Binnein, Stob Coire an Lochain I was caught up by another walker. An English lady from Edinburgh preparing for a Himalayan trek, we ended up walking the whole route together. I was glad of the company. While one of the attractions for me of hill walking is solitude, it’s good to walk with others sometimes as well, particularly on long, physically testing routes. My companion for the day was certainly fitter than me and I was glad of the pace she set. Had I been walking this route alone, I expect it would have taken me at least an hour longer.

For much of the day our conversation focused on the Scottish independence referendum, which was then just days away. I shan’t go into any great detail here but suffice to say I was glad of the result later that week. Before too long we reached the first munro, Stob Binnein. The walk north to Ben More was straightforward but involved a couple of hundred metres of descent and reascent. From the col between Ben More and Stob Binnein we then began an ever greater descent into the valley separating the first pair of munros from Cruach Adrain and Beinn Tulaichean. Blessed with fine weather the navigation across to the next pair of munros was easy enough but the re-ascent was extremely tiring. After gaining the subsidiary top of Stob Garbh I wasn’t sure I’d have the legs to get up Cruach Adrain but I managed it. The fourth munro, Beinn Tulaichean was a much gentler climb and from there it was a fairly quick descent back to the car park.

Cruach Ardrain, 3rd munro of the day

A long and very tiring day with some 2200m of vertical ascent over 18km, I was really pleased with my achievement. Six munros in 2 days and well over 3000m of vertical ascent. Hard weekends like this only serve to increase hill fitness and endurance, while longer routes also provide greater opportunity to test navigation. Later in October in quite different mountain terrain in Japan (the subject of a separate blog post) I could feel real strength in my legs and was able to enjoy a totally different mountain environment from the Highlands without worrying about aches and pains in my legs.

Over the course of 2014 it’s occurred to me that when I first presented at a doctor in 2012 complaining of knee and leg pain when out walking hills, the first thing the doctor should have enquired about was the amount of hill walking I had already done. Questions like, “How many hills have you climbed in the last year?” and “What’s the furthest you’ve walked and greatest elevation gain you’ve done in a single day” would have revealed to the doctor that I was a total novice and that my aches and pains in 2012 and 2013 were simply explained by trying to do too much too soon. But no detailed enquiries were made as to the amount of hill walking I had been doing or was trying to do. Instead, all the enquiries focused around the type of pain I had and what sorts of activities induced it. These led swiftly to MRI scans and probably pointless arthroscopic surgery for a meniscus tear.

My guess is that for many hill walking related aches and pains doctors would do well to enquire in detail about activity levels (distances, height gain etc) and then take a view as to whether the patient was maybe trying to run before they could walk. This year I’ve focused on trying to build up gradually to longer, more demanding routes and to combat the dangers of a sedentary job by increasing the amount of walking I do during the working week. So far, that strategy seems to be paying off. I don’t think my cardio-vascular fitness has changed much, but that’s not my goal. The strength of my legs and my endurance levels are undoubtedly improving with every visit to the mountains. And so, it was with little difficulty at all that I recently ascended the 900m from the beautiful Kamikoche valley in the Japan Alps to the summit of Yake Dake (2455m) an unforgettable experience to which I shall turn in one of my next posts.